


Sherlock Holmes was a very adamant man when it came to his beliefs (especially regarding magic)

by afabulousjello



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, healer wizard john, possibly slash later, wizarding world plus sherlock mashup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afabulousjello/pseuds/afabulousjello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes was a very insistent man when it came to his beliefs, especially regarding the probability of certain circumstances of crime. This is probably why he exclaimed rather adamantly that wizardry didn’t exist he just hadn’t have all the evidence he needed to put together a clear picture, while dashing around the flat when John had proposed that. Of course, the brilliant Sherlock Holmes must have been shaken in his genius at the mere mention of some ludicrous things like magic. It was a thing his science could neither comprehend nor control and John could understand his upset about it. But John was a wizard and he knew the looks of Adava Kedavra used on a person. This case didn’t look up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Holmes was a very adamant man when it came to his beliefs (especially regarding magic)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry fro the giga title, it just had to be. I liked it too much.  
> The story will continnue and it is my first multichapter, so I don't yet know how far or how well.  
> The story is set around the time of the third Harry Potter book, with Sirius Black on the loose, everything else is explained. Though you should know both fandoms to understand a coulpe of things.

The war against Voldemort and his madmen was long past over. John had been a young man caught in its maelstrom. Yet nowadays one still couldn’t rest undisturbed, the Dark Lord’s follower were still out there forming anonymous terrorist cells raging against the Ministries of the world. It was stupid to assume the muggles wouldn’t notice so Fudge had cooperated tightly with the British government to cover it up. There had been troops sent to Afghanistan, Iraq, South Africa and dozens of other places to cover up the wizarding world’s doing. Thus when anyone asked John could answer he had been on military service. And John had been there. As a healer, admittedly, he tended the wounded and mended their hopes. Funny though, he never imagined his life to go like that. Trained at St Mungo’s he hoped to work there, build up a reputation and then to retire to a private clinic. Now he had been at a post-actual-war operation, where he got badly injured himself – still carrying the wound at his shoulder- and went back to London, convinced nothing could make him go back and look at random corpses. And yet he was staring at a man, unmistakeably murdered with magic together with at least twenty police officers and his infuriatingly brilliant flatmate.

Sherlock was a very interesting man. He could come up with utterly plausible explanations for the magical mishaps John sometimes had at home. His existence alone explained John his interest with the muggle world. It even increased when they moved together and John started reading those medical textbooks he had bought for cover. The only difficulty in living with Sherlock lay in keeping his magic abilities from him, and surprisingly not the severed heads or the crime scenes. That John could even count as passable.  
Sherlock saw everything and what he didn’t deduce in the first glance, was filled by his combination skills. So, living with Sherlock Holmes included a lot more usage of Confundo and Disaudio than John had previously thought. It was also about not letting him find John wandering around late at night to the bathroom his way lit by his wand. It was about hiding every single letter and Daily Prophet that was delivered by owls. It was about to repress the instinct to jinx the man to stay still for a moment. And sometimes John was glad he carried around a muggle weapon, which made his nervous twitches towards his back pocket in sight of danger excusable. More than the gun, it was of course always his wand he was glad to be carrying around.

He had to thank and to curse Mike Stamford for it, of course and himself, too. When he returned from the heat of the afghan desert, he had clung to small traces of normality like rain and the sound of the tube approaching with disparity. That is until Mike told him it was enough, he shouldn’t be trying to catch up with Harry, because it would do neither of them any good. She would be furious he rubbed his wizardry under her nose when and he would be furious because she would be still drunk and insufferable. So his friend cut his visit at his parents to a quick by inviting him to his workplace. The St Bart’s was very alike the St Mungo, where they both studied. Mike even mentioned the two buildings being twin ones, but this was a magicless facility. John wondered, then remembered, that Mike had always had an interest in muggle affairs and apparently he had been studying their medicine to combine with magic techniques. And that is where he first met him, Sherlock Holmes, an actual full-blown muggle scientist with ridiculously good looks and a posh name. That was never going to be working, John thought then. 

He still thought that when he moved in and had fallen in love with the opportunity. He wished just that tint of non-magic everyday in his life, very much now that he had been injured by it. He quickly realised that he was going to be far from slouching and relaxing into his armchair with that flatmate around. There were experiments and chasing criminal minded cab drivers in the middle of the night and the realisation that Sherlock was a bloody talented detective. It was fun living with him, but also seriously exhausting. Against all that, John never left, never felt bored or too exposed and they warmed up to each other. John had never imagined they could become so good friends with that crippling secret of his magical talent gaping between them, but it somehow happened. Probably mainly because of Sherlock’s natural repulse against communication.  
No matter their strange silences, Sherlock’s recognition rose with time. He was invited for consult in many cases, gained trust in many local police forces and even made it into headlines. John fancied it was because of the stupid blog he started in the early days of their crime solving. Now he wished he didn’t, because it led them to their current situation. They were given access to more and more unsolvable murders. Unsolvable by muggle measures. John, being a medic could immediately see through the foil. It had been magic or some strange potion or flora that had killed the victims.  
And that was, when the real tiptoeing around Sherlock started.

“I swear on Merlin’s beard, Sherlock, if you do that again I’ll poison you myself.” –John hissed at him when he entered the flat, impolitely delayed after his flatmate. Cursing with terms like that was the first thing he quit using when he moved in out of caution. Now he somehow found himself slipping more and more into it. Sherlock barely reacted other than sometimes amusedly lifting his brow. - “You leave me, on the other side of the country and dash off in your bloody stormy coat playing the misunderstood genius. Once more, I dare you do that once more and you will be the next victim the police are investigating.”

Sherlock hummed in reply.  
“Are you even listening?”  
“This doesn’t make any sense.” –he spat out irritated.  
John couldn’t place the reply and frowned confused. “What doesn’t?”  
“The case, John, the case!”- Sherlock jumped up from his armchair and strode across the flat restlessly. “If they wanted to leave, why didn’t they have any vehicle prepared? There wasn’t even a taxi ordered on their name; so maybe another name, same address. But no, they were the kind of people ornamenting their entire house with pictures of their family. No person hiding an identity would do that. Unless they were playing very smart and tried to make the suspicious unsuspicious. But even then there was one thing that was off.”

John suddenly tensed. He thought Sherlock noticed there being no clear signs of death. No marks of anything entering the bodies. “What do you mean?”  
“Their phones, John! They didn’t have any.”  
“Maybe they were an old fashioned couple and used the landline. Had no mobiles.”  
“No landline either I searched the flat. And look at their ages, thirty at most a modern young couple, clearly having differences about taste in décor. Yet, no mobile, no landline, not even television.”

John settled in his armchair having his coat pulled off and tossed it on the armrest.  
“Wait for Lestrade to question their neighbours and friends. Maybe you’ll know more about them then.”  
“Yes, this is actually the most infuriating part. Having to sit around and wait, when there’s a mystery to be solved.” –he threw himself on the couch only to jump up a second later again. –“John, let’s go and question their neighbours now. Lestrade’s being too slow.”  
“Hold on a second, do you know the time? I am not going around asking questions now. I’m still cross because you left me there and unless you don’t plan on carrying out such activities at a more reasonable hour don’t count on me coming along.” – He said and darted up to his room.  
“Oh.” –sounded from Sherlock. –“You’re really angry with me.”  
“Yes,”-he turned. ”Good job deducing it.”

“I don’t understand. This has happened before, why didn’t you raise objection then?”  
Because, before I wasn’t left there with two dead wizards and an entire police squad trying to make sense out of it. –John thought, but only said dismissively. “I had a tough day. I guess I’m exhausted and more irritable.” He left without looking at Sherlock, not knowing if he was caught in his lie.

It had been bloody difficult to waggle his way around Lestrade feigning he had no idea about anything when he clearly had. John cleverly nicked obvious artefacts of magic from the flat like the Floo-powder, the occasional receipt about galleons and pushed the latest issue of the Daily Prophet out the window. The flat was the couple’s own, but it probably only served as a temporary hideout of sorts, it lacked the usual equipment found in sorcerer’s homes.

It had been by far the most severe case of magic usage the detective and John had encountered. Never before had they have to deal with the Prime Curses in use. The complications even increased after Sherlock had darted off buried in his mind, when the forces of the ministry slowly registered the crime and mobilised their forces by sending agents to the scene to deal with the muggle police. John had only caught a glimpse of the awkward conversation unroll between oddly-dressed wizard officers and Lestrade’s men. Depending on the time needed for official response, it might even be that the case will be withdrawn from the DI’s reach, as well from Sherlock’s by the end of the week. Usually that would give Sherlock enough time to figure out a simple murder, but this…this was a level even above his deduction skills.

Despite having implied to be, John actually wasn’t tired. He sat on his bed half an hour later, trying to figure out what would be the best course of actions to take. Should they be exposed to magic, his last resort of wiping Sherlock’s memories clean still remained, though he preferred it to remain a last resort he needn’t put in action. There was one thing he truly had to do, which was to contact someone about it. The usage of the Primes wasn’t tolerated and severely punished. There was some bastard running out there using forbidden curses. This was crime on a large scale.

John thought of alerting some of his old friends, some might have connections in the ministry, but the fireplace was downstairs and so was Sherlock. Besides, he would have had to explain from the start how exactly he had gotten himself into the position of solving crimes with a muggle. So no, John wouldn’t contact them. But there was one, among his acquaintances, who knew all that and operated on muggle devices, too. 

So John phoned Mike, at whatever ungodly hour they were at.  
“John?” –Mike’s sleepy voice sounded through the line.  
“Sorry, Mike. Did I wake you?”  
“No, not actually. I was about to have coffee. What’s up mate?”  
John wondered for a second how early shift started at Bart’s, but then quickly regained his concentration. “You remember me telling you Sherlock slowly got all the Insolvables? The crimes the police couldn’t solve, because magic was involved, but didn’t make it to our people because they were too petty. We just came home from a scene, Mike, a couple was murdered with you know what.” 

There was only noise on the other end after John’s heavy-breathed explanation.  
“The, you mean the death curse?” – Mike finally asked with his throat audibly dry. “John, are you sure?”  
“No mistake. I know it when I see it.”  
“What did Sherlock say?”  
“What should he have? He has no idea and is terribly frustrated because of it. I wondered if you knew anyone at the ministry, really anyone, willing to deal with the case. The muggle police have to drop it before it gets too much attention from press.”  
“Well, I’m not sure I can help you. It has been a magic-less area, so I’d say it’s Weasley’s division on scene. You know, the ones dealing with object abuse, biting toilets, enchanted keys.”  
“I’m not sure it would be of much use contacting them.”- He grimaced.  
“I can give you his contact, for any eventuality. But actually, “- An idea sparked Mike. -“write Dumbledore! He should know what to do.”

“Write Dumbledore? We aren’t at school anymore. I can’t just chat up on him saying ‘Dear headmaster, I know it’s been a long time and you probably don’t remember me, but my muggle flatmate and I solve crimes and we recently stumbled upon a couple killed with Avada Kedavra. Please tell us what to do.’”- John spat irritated.  
“You know John, you might as well do. Because there’s a criminal out there who’s daring enough to use a forbidden spell to get what he wants and Dumbledore might be at a position, where he might ensure the ones responsible for it get imprisoned.”


End file.
